


auspicia ex avibus

by caesarions



Series: WANTON, or, the silk road love triangle [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Ancient Rome, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Massage, is fake deep also an acceptable tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 03:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13181019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesarions/pseuds/caesarions
Summary: Though it could be the beginning of the end, nobody has foresight quite that far, not even China. As the imperial Crisis of the Third Century kicks into high gear, Rome has questions, and China thinks he has answers. Philosophizing about the life and death of empires ensues.





	auspicia ex avibus

**Author's Note:**

> TITLE: latin for 'signs offered by birds', a very popular way to determine omens. ex avibus was one of the two types interpreted by augurs (or you, if your older etruscan brother taught you augury)! there are also oblative (unsought, uncalled for) auspices which occurred unexpectedly. unless an augur was already present, it was up to the witness to determine if the sign was significant and needed interpreting by an augur or not. the point is, romulus is a very superstitious boy. 
> 
> NAMES:
> 
> rome - lucius marius priscus romulus (shining; of mars or masculine; ancient; the mythical founder, 'mr. rome')
> 
> china - wang min (clever king)
> 
> germania - alaric (ruler of all)
> 
> persia - ardashir (one whose reign is based on honesty and justice)
> 
> carthage - anysus barca (lost to history, lightning)
> 
> etruria - aranth repesuna (prince, lost to history)

**235 AD, Rome, Lazio**

* * *

Romulus had debated the dregs of politics since the dawn, consciously eyeing the Altar of Victory the entire duration. It looked like Victoria had not been dusted or polished in a while. Even the divine could not blame the humans right now; they had bigger things to worry about.

At least this senate meeting had not taken place at the Temple of Bellona like the last one. The Germans had backed off after only one skirmish deep into their venomous land, almost to the coast. Though it was one good grace Romulus would grant the new Maximinus Thrax, his back still ached with every step he took.

And at such an unfortunate time, as Romulus hosted his visitor.

When the last junior senator spoke and the vote cast, it was late morning. He could make it home in time for _prandium_. Romulus had sat through longer, but not with such great back pain. He did not take it as a good sign as to the state of his borders.

All men were released, and instead of sticking around to mooch off of endless dinner invitations, Romulus bursted through the open bronze doors. After the shadow of the Curia Julia left him, it took but one more step for Romulus to notice an midnight-black raven glittering ominously amongst the cobblestones. There was no augur around, and the debate was over, so Romulus should not have even stopped to consider if the _auspicia oblativa_ was significant or not. But Romulus knew an augur’s absence was just an excuse. Though he did not hold his older brother’s memory in very high regard, it seemed wasteful of Aranth’s childhood augury lessons to him to not consider it.

His effort in considering the raven’s position to him proved fruitless. By the time Romulus thought he had an answer, the raven, feeding on nothing, turned to him and bored a hole in his skull with beady eyes. After cawing maniacally, the bird spread oily-fingered wings and took flight, blocking Apollo’s late morning sun. It was probably off to steal a plebeian’s bread somewhere.

A geriatric of a senator that Romulus hadn’t noticed had also exited stuck a clammy hand on the representative’s shoulder. “Was it a favorable sign?”

“I don’t know,” Romulus lied through his teeth.

 

When Romulus returned to his domus, his most special visitor had already started the meal. Min daintily bit at an egg while reclining and reading a scroll. Needing to be eaten, the vegetable medley and fish from last night’s _cena_ had been brought back out, but the bread was fresh. Since Min disliked most meats and could not have dairy, accommodating his tastes had been a hassle the first visit. But this time, Romulus’ palate had reverted to match Min’s almost a day in.

But, he did miss cheese.

“You started without me?” Romulus pouted, plopping down next to a luxuriating Min.

Min looked up for the first time, but only long enough to shove the rest of the egg into Romulus’ mouth. “You were late.”

Blinking at first, Romulus eventually resigned to his fate of eating the rest of the egg. He chewed and swallowed before attempting to argue (though losing was imminent). “Well, yes. We were discussing important things, obviously.”

“If government was truly important, then mine would not get replaced like the seasons,” Min huffed. Next, Min leaned over and finally gave Romulus his greeting kiss. “Like what?”

“Half Germans, half internal affairs,” Romulus relayed with a heavy sigh. He picked up a mushroom. “If I’d entertained Alaric in the city for longer, maybe that would’ve made them less testy.”

“Or made them testier,” Min pointed out. “You could always disappoint in bed.”

“We did not sleep together this time,” Romulus mediated, blinking in confusion. “You would have been jealous.”

“Yes.” Min plucked the mushroom from Romulus’ hands and ate it himself. “I did not say there was any winning in this situation.”

Romulus’ lips twinged as he grabbed a turnip piece instead. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

After a heartbeat of silence, Min draped himself over the couch arm. He walked two fingers up Romulus’ nearest arm affectionately. “What happened at the meeting? You never let my teasing affect you.”

The Roman chewed thoughtfully for a moment, weighing his words, wondering what Min would and wouldn’t understand or relate to. “Well, it’s more what happened after—”

“No, no, do not tell me,” Min interrupted. “I forgot you need to eat. Eat, eat! You look even skinnier than yesterday.”

The concern was genuine, but whether Min was imagining it or Romulus actually needed to be worried was unknown. But, he ate, and he ate. Min got the message and distracted Romulus with his latest scroll’s plot instead.

Once their midday meal was complete, Min was still not satisfied. “Take that off,” he complained, pulling at Romulus’ white _toga virilis_. “You are making me hot just looking at you.”

“It is only early _Aprilis_ ,” Romulus said, but he was sweaty under the layers of heavy wool.

“I do not care what month you think it is,” Min pursed his lips. “It’s hot.”

Romulus couldn’t argue. After dashing upstairs and changing into a light tunic, Min was not at the table anymore when Romulus returned. Accustomed to searching for him, Romulus hummed until he spotted Min perched next to the rainwater pool in the atrium, unmistakable by his long raven hair. Beside him was Lupa, and Romulus excitedly wiggled his way between Min and his pet Molossus dog.

“We could’ve used that water for something,” Romulus chuckled when he saw Min kicking bare feet in the water.

“It’s hot!” Min reiterated. “Look at how much Lupa is panting. And you did not care when you threw me in the pool the last visit.”

“I gently dipped you,” Romulus corrected him, playing with Lupa’s ears. “We were having fun.”

Min quietly leaned on Romulus’ arm, looking up at him with big eyes. “But you are not very fun right now. What is wrong?”

Stroking Lupa’s back, she also looked at him expectantly. No one in this house was going to let him mope on his own, it seemed.

“Just the timing issues, I suppose.” Romulus’ face twinged. “Unfortunate that the last emperor had to be assassinated and laughed almost as soon as we reached the city.”

“Oh, that Alex guy?” Min laughed. “All was well when you left for Ctesiphon. It matters not to me.” He stroked Romulus’ stubble and smirked. “Plus, if he could not handle _Ardashir_ of all people, maybe he deserved it.”

The Roman squinted. “But if you’re vacationing to _avoid_ conflict, then this fails as a vacation.”

“Oh, not necessarily.” Placing a hand on his chest, Min pouted. “Conflict is the best time to be with someone else. And by _someone_ , I mean a loved one, not Sima Yi. My presence should be a blessing.”

“It is, it is,” Romulus chuckled. Min had filled him in on all the latest Three Kingdoms gossip from home, and he recognized the name Sima, but forgot why Min hated that clan specifically. Well, sometimes it was necessary for them to pick a side in civil wars; Romulus knew that truth all too well with his own history. “ _Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris_ ,” he confirmed, clearing his throat. “It is a comfort to the unfortunate to have had companions in woe."

“Don’t use my talents of quoting proverbs against me.” Min squeezed Romulus’ cheeks with one hand, kissing the pursed lips. “I am bored here. Come to the courtyard with me.”

Without waiting for Romulus, Min flipped his black silk hair and left a trail of wet footprints on the marble floor. Romulus followed behind with Lupa running circles around him.

In the open-air _peristylium_ , Lupa ran off to bark at one of the fountains. Apollo’s noon sun directly overhead made the emerald garden bright and the portico covered in shadow. It was humid, but not on the verge of uncomfort. He spent the most time here when Min was around; with much more drastic seasons at home, Romulus knew Min enjoyed the eternal greenery.

Min waved Romulus over to one of the couches. “You were too tense in there. What hurts?”

“Oh, um,” Romulus stammered. “My back, I guess?”

“Then lie down,” Min ordered with a grand, sweeping gesture to the couch. Romulus sighed, but Min always knew what he was doing, so he went along with it. “What causes it?”

“Uh, I don’t know exactly,” Romulus squinted, now lying on his stomach. “I think it’s been there since the empire started. Sometimes it’s my neck. But it’s not a very reliable indic— _ah_!”

Though he knew Min was on top of him how, the first percussive stroke still surprised him. “Oh, yes, I’m starting now,” Min added, quite helpfully.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever in the still courtyard. Only periodically broken by Romulus’ grunts—it seemed terribly rough for a massage—it was as peaceful as the Roman could be right now.

And probably would be for a while.

“How did it start?” Romulus whispered into his crossed arms, resting on the couch arm.

Unfortunately, Min has impeccable hearing. “How did what start?”

“Whatever civil war is happening now,” Romulus grumbled. “With… Sima?”

Min hit particularly hard in the center of his back. “That is just a kinder way of asking how the glorious Han _ended_.”

“Well, I suppose.” Frowning, Romulus tried to roll over now that they were talking. But Min pushed him back into the cushions, insisting he wasn’t done yet. “Oof. I just didn’t want to insinuate you had fallen from grace or anything. You look pretty good.”

Min raised an eyebrow.

Romulus corrected himself. “Very good.”

“It helps that I am away from home,” Min exhaled with a shrug. He added softly, “Almost my favorite place to be.”

Before a shocked Romulus could ask about the logistics of that statement, Min had blazed ahead. “Well, the fall of the Han was a combination of peasant revolts, warlords, and infighting. But oh, I humor myself. What Chinese problem is not?”

It was quiet for a moment, and Romulus turned his head around. Hands stilled, Min was staring off at the cobblestone floor somewhere. “Was I supposed to answer that question?”

“Hm?” Min whipped his head around, the glassy look in his eyes vanishing instantly. “Ah, talking about it made me think about it.” He set out at his massage work at a breakneck pace.

“The three men that would destroy the Han were all alive in it, involved in it, and worked for it. Liu Bei even founded his state by gathering support from _Han_ loyalists upset with Cao Cao. Cao Cao controlled the military, but in doing so, he really controlled the government.”

Even though he was trying his best, Min’s movements turned a little shaky.

“Though Cao Cao was a murderer, Liu Bei was no better. As soon as the time was right, he used his support from his movement to restore the Han to ultimately shatter it a third time. And Sun Quan? Eh, he’s just boring.”

Somehow, the set-up was even more terrifying than the aftermath that Min had already touched upon. He really deemed all of that unimportant enough to leave out of his stories? Surely Sun Quan had murdered too?

Min’s palms pushed a path up Romulus’ back. “If it had not been _me_ they were splitting into three parts, I would almost commend their ambition.”

Romulus had no social commentary he could add. He asked timidly, “How do you know what’s next?”

“You don’t,” Min shrugged.

“You’ve been alive for a lo— you’re wise,” Romulus scrambled desperately. “Aren’t there any predictable cycles?”

“There are and there are not,” Min sighed, and Romulus almost regretted asking. “How was I to know Qin, the man that dragged me around as a toy for eight years during his reunification, was to set up my imperial system? And I am not thankful to him, but I am quite used to it now.”

The Roman bit his lips. “How did the Han come after the Qin?”

Min let his eyes drop. “Because it had to. It always has to. I am sure after this mess, another unifying dynasty will pop up, one of the three current states. We will have some trouble. Maybe they’ll kill me, who knows. But that is how it works, because that is how it has to work.”

Romulus rolled over unrestrained this time. “But how can you be certain? What if you’re a fluke and not the rule?”

Min lightly slapped his arm. “I’m not _that_ narcissistic! It is the same for all old empires around me. Even Ardashir is living it up.” His indignant pout melted into a serious expression. “Even if I am the fluke, you are so young!”

Anything Min said afterward floated through his ears meaninglessly. He was young only in Min’s terms, and he did his damndest to keep his face still. Anysus had barely passed something like 750 years when Carthage was burned to the ground by Romulus’ own hand. Aranth, for all his augury lessons, had not made it to 750 when he disappeared due to Roman annexation of the Etruscan area.

Whatever they were doing in the East, it did not seem to apply to the Mediterranean, and it terrified him.

Romulus must have been frozen in thought for a while, for the next thing he felt was Min suddenly grabbing his cheeks. Min looked imploringly into Romulus’ eyes, feathery brows scrunched. “With or without Severus Alexander’s economic reforms,” Min whispered fiercely, “you will live.”

Romulus smiled the best that he could with his smushed face. “You _do_ listen when I complain.”

Min pecked him on the lips. “It’s only fair. You listen to me.”

It was a waste of energy to roll back over, so Romulus pulled Min into his arms instead. He rested his chin on Min’s head and closed his eyes. Now that Min’s most recent civil wars had been brought up again, Romulus felt guilty for complaining. The numbers Min had mentioned for casualties still swam through Romulus’ mind—always in the hundreds of thousands. And he had been destroyed and rebuilt countless times. Did Romulus’ problems even deserve to be compared? Or were they even real problems?

Romulus stroked Min’s hair. “Still, do you worry?”

“You mean to ask, ‘Do _I_ need to worry?’” Min replied. “My answer would be no. A dynasty may be over, but you do not seem to emphasize them as much as we do. I do not even remember the previous Severans. Have you talked about them?”

“I don’t know,” Romulus lied through his teeth. He had not; especially the founder, Septimius Severus, unnerved him. The family drama Romulus could handle, but the Punic accent from Septimius’ North African roots haunted Romulus, bringing unwilling memories of Anysus after 200 years.

“Well, I have had enough excitement for one day anyway,” Min let it slide. He flopped down on Romulus’ chest, nuzzling in, making himself as comfortable as he pleased. “Are you well now? Because we should nap here until dinner.”

Romulus pursed his lips. Now that his anxiety had died down, he could be doing something productive. “I feel great now, thank you." Both physically and mentally. "But I should really be getting to those letters in my study.”

Min lifted his head up. “We should nap here until dinner.”

Well, there was nothing to be done about this decision. Romulus laughed heartily, wrapping his arms around Min tighter. Even if Min was taller, he was much skinnier, and Romulus always joked he was just being used for his warmth and muscular arms to provide comfort.

Eventually, even Lupa joined them again, lying at the foot of the couch and thumping her tail. The insects buzzed around them, but the white noise was not what was keeping Romulus awake. Min fell asleep first, and Romulus continued to squint painfully into Apollo’s late afternoon sun. He was half-tempted to call a slave for writing utensils to record all that Min had said.

Romulus found Min’s blasé acceptance of everything almost… comforting. In all his passion, he had never considered neutrality was the answer. Of course, Min had obviously learned from everything, and Romulus was now rethinking Maximinus Thrax’s military career that had landed him the position of emperor, as well as the military emperors before him. And maybe not everything Min said made sense, but that was never the case with Min, and Romulus loved him for it.

Of course. Whatever happened now, he had Min here for. And whatever happened after, he had Min’s advice for. He wrapped strands of Min’s hair around his fingers affectionately, hoping the feeling would lull him to sleep.

Romulus was determined to replace the raven with memories of Min’s corvine hair.

But, it wouldn’t last.


End file.
